Time for Tea

There's nothing more girly, more whimsical, more feminine than a sweet little girl's tea party.  And for Molly's Sixth Birthday Party... we did just that.

And to make my little princess's party one she'd never forget, I found an oh-so-perfect venue called "The Vintage House."  It was truly out of a dream - white picket fence, rooms painted in creams and pinks, with crocheted doilies draped across antique furniture throughout the house.  They had a little sun-room on the back filling with light and this teeny-tiny courtyard beside it.  It was picture-perfect.

Here, let me show you...

One of my favorite things about this year's birthday party was actually how involved Miss Priss was in all the party planning. She had set ideas on the whole she-bang, and for the most part I let her do whatever she wanted.  She chose the party favors and helped plan the games, picked out the menu items and dictated where things were to be set up around the house.  She special requested the pinata and even hand-selected the candy that went in it.  I tell you - she's a mini-me in the making.

It was a perfect party for my perfect little princess.

SIX

To my dearest first-born,

Today you turn six.

In the blink of an eye you have grown into a little lady – with bright blue eyes and freckles scattered across your cheeks.  Seems like only yesterday they were laying a dark-haired cherub on my chest and telling me I had become a mother.  Seems like only yesterday I was holding you in the crook of my arms as you slept and nursed and slept and nursed.  Countless hours were spent gazing down at your beautiful face wondering how God could have given me something so wonderful.

You truly are the most wonderful thing that He could have given me.  You made me a mom – and initiated me into the most prestigious club in history.  My life would never be the same.

 And I’m so very grateful to have you as my daughter.

You are such an amazing little girl.  So full of life.  So passionate.  So eager to make a new friend.  I love seeing your relationship grow with God, how your unwavering faith lets you see the world in a new light.  I love how compassionate you are – always concerned about the less-fortunate and ready to fight the good fight.

You are such a mama’s girl.  I love that you’re not too old for my lap, that you always are ready with a cuddle and an I Love You, that you sneak up to our bedroom every single night and make yourself a bed on the floor… just to be close to me.

You are an artist.  You amaze me with the things that you draw and color and create.  You spend countless hours sitting there dreaming up beautiful things on paper and then adorn our fridge with your masterpieces.  You are my creative spirit.

You are a leader, with a mind of your own.  You know what you want and you persevere to get it.  And nothing seems to stand in your way.  I love to see the determination in your eyes when you set your mind to something.  And I love seeing you work hard to get it.

You are a pink-aholic.  Your daily request is to get to wear something pink, eat something pink, buy something pink.  You don’t care if it’s pink pajamas or a pink dress or the ugliest pink shirt with scratchy pink fleece leggings.  Along as it’s pink, you’re pink-erific.

You are a big sister.  And although most of the time you seem to care less, when I do catch a glimpse of the love between you and your sister, my heart melts every time.  I know deep down you and Little Goose have forged a forever friendship and that is all I ever dreamed of for you.

You are you.  No one could ever compare to you.  You’re sweet, you’re talented, you’re turning six and you’ve got an amazing life ahead of you.

Happy Birthday my blue eyed angel.  I will love you until the end of time.

Love until the end of time,

Mama

****

I began this blog counting my sorrows of how I didn’t want my little girl to grow up.  How I cried this morning and I cried this afternoon and I cried again tonight just thinking how the last six years have flown by and my heart is aching that I’ll never see those years again.  But then I realized that although it hurts to see her grow, I want her to see how I really saw her on her sixth birthday.  I wanted her to read beyond mama’s sorrows to the amazement I feel when I look at her.  When I think of her.  And in fifty years when I’m gone, she’ll know how very proud I was to be her mama.